Through Many Tests and Trials
by DawningStar
Summary: "How finished did you say this was, again?" Tron and Yori's first lightjet date. Fluff.


Through Many Tests and Trials  
by Dawn

The Solar Sailer hummed a descending note as its sails shimmered into greater transparency. The datastream continued toward the distant city without them as the vessel slowed mid-flight.

Tron stared at the baton Yori carried, deceptively normal except for the way she cradled it in both hands. Brand new, never yet activated. She tended to treat newly created prototypes as though they would break apart in her fingers, no matter how sturdy the code actually was. After watching her work with the designs themselves before compile over all these cycles, Tron thought he understood why.

At the moment he had serious doubts about the baton himself. "How finished did you say this was, again?"

Yori stood at nearly Tron's own eye level, her feet braced on the lower rail of the Solar Sailer's upper viewing deck. She brandished the baton with a glint of humor. "Mostly."

"You just don't want to wait for Flynn," Tron teased.

"Do you really want to let the User try this _before_ I've tested it? Of course I don't want to wait." She tossed half a wry smile at him. It faded too fast around the edges. "Besides, that might be a long time."

The fact of being a single-User system had taken plenty of adjustment, as had losing all direct link to Alan-One. Since Flynn's latest round of upgrades it felt like the wait between visits was growing even longer. Flynn almost never commanded a full shutdown, for the system to wake timeless on his return. Improved hardware, he'd said, but he always seemed busier now too. "You don't think he'll come to test it soon, then."

Yori shook her head once, quiet negation. "He stopped suddenly, as if called away, and he didn't even start the digitization sequence. Could be a decicycle, or more."

"Well." Tron cleared his throat and moved on. Flynn had other tasks than their system, equally important, they all knew that. "Clearly that's much too long to expect you to wait when there's something new to fly." He grinned at Yori, though it felt more strained than it should have. "Are you sure it's safe?"

"I'm sure it won't explode, or cause a power flux in the pilot, or draw too much energy at once, or shatter into sharp edges mid-flight." A shrug. "Am I sure it will fly? No. That's why we're testing it out here."

Tron hadn't even considered some of those options. Hearing them listed didn't particularly reassure him. He tried not to picture what that would look like. "Shouldn't you let me try it first?" he suggested.

From her face, Yori gave that idea due consideration for all of a very short nanocycle. "Don't worry." A bright sideways grin, not a fraction dimmer inside the helmet. "You'll get your turn too."

Up by the pilot's enclosed control seat, Yori's sister Emara called out, "Ready on recording!"

"Test one!" Yori shouted back, squeezed Tron's shoulder either in brief reassurance or because it was convenient for balance, and leaped off the Sailer's viewing rail without further warning.

The temptation to snatch her back before she escaped was very, very strong. Tron half-extended a hand before conscious calculation even started, leaning over so far himself that the Sea a long span below heaved directly under him.

But she'd told him the prototype was reasonably safe, she was armored well enough that the impact with the water shouldn't hurt her even if the test failed, and she'd shout at him for a very long time if he got in the way. Yanking her down toward the rail at that angle would be riskier than a dive, even from this height. It wasn't as though this were Encom's bright and dangerous Game Sea.

None of that made it any better to stand watching as she dropped away. The knot of freefall in his core would have been easier to handle if he were the one falling.

The nanocycles stretched painfully while Yori fell away from him. Tron could see she'd kicked out well and evenly, her baton held in perfect formation as for a lightcycle leap, but why wasn't she starting it-she wasn't activating it or it wasn't working-Tron's hands clenched on the rail.

Finally the baton came apart, just as Yori dropped past the lower edge of the Sailer. That had to be by plan. Not enough to let Tron relax, not yet.

The codeframe traced blue around her, brighter than the glow of her armor. Wide wings the clearest feature. A seat not so different from a lightcycle's in the way it supported and corrected for its program mid-rez. Tron couldn't get a good look at the controls. He'd have liked a better view of the engine, but as long as it would work he'd be happy to let Yori explain it later.

Solid, the new design had a sharp aesthetic nothing like a Solar Sailer or a Recognizer. Tron wondered what its inspiration or purpose was. Whether Flynn had seen such a thing before, in his real world or only in imagination.

Blue energy flared as Yori activated systems, turning the fall into a controlled glide and then a definite flight. A shallow spiral upward, not too close to the Sailer but not drifting far either.

The whoop that echoed deafeningly in Tron's ear came from one or more of Yori's sisters and not the current tester, but might as well have been from the sheer glee in it. His own grin at the sight was quieter, no sound escaping but a sigh of relief. Now that there didn't seem to be an immediate threat, he could appreciate the amount of work that had gone into this prototype from both worlds.

Yori made another gentle turn, reversing direction but still heading up. Then, nose pointed away from the Sailer and the observers, she cut in a louder sound of thrust. Faster, higher, one circuit, then carefully reversing direction-her engine sputtered loudly to give her thrust for the maneuver-

At first Tron thought she might be showing off, the sudden midair spin not out of character for a good test run. But it was awkward, tumbling and uncontrolled, and suddenly the prototype was losing too much altitude too fast. The engine noise went softer as Yori tried to correct her momentum. The grip of fear in Tron's core came back exponentially stronger for its delay.

Tron knew the instant when Yori gave up hope of pulling out safely. The prototype's wings faded back into code, back into nothing, leaving her form spinning and visible for one fragile moment before she tucked into a ball and struck the Sea with a loud splash.

The Solar Sailer's lift was already partway down, but far too slow. Tron levered himself over the rail and leaped, arrowing downward. His helmet clicked into place mid-dive.

Impact, and the strange Sea closed over him cool and dark and grasping. It took a moment before he could orient properly.

Yori's circuitry shone through the liquid, a blue beacon, light holding steady. No damage visible. The blue glint of her arms and legs showed she was moving. That was some relief, but she wasn't rising, wasn't facing him. Had she gotten disoriented at the depth or the darkness? Tron kicked deeper, straining to catch hold.

His hand latched onto one flailing wrist at last. A gentle tug, to show the way up.

To his startlement, her other hand came about instantly in a light but very definite slap. Yori pointed to the side and down instead. Tron scanned that direction for the reason-found it a short distance away, reflecting faint blue light.

Of course Yori wouldn't leave her prototype if she could help it.

Tron squeezed her wrist once in acknowledgement and pulled her upward with more force. Let go as she passed him, to exchange places and use the momentum of it. Yori cooperated this time, heading swiftly toward the broken glitter of the Solar Sailer's light.

His longer reach made the baton easier to snag. Tron held it close and followed Yori up.

Their heads broke the surface at almost the same time. Yori's helmet retracted to let him see her laughing face and her wet hair fighting to escape its braid. "Think I found a problem with the design," she observed with a wide grin.

Tron let his own helmet pull back likewise. The worry was too close to laugh at, but he reached to hold her closer, limbs tangling in the Sea. No need to ask if she were hurt with that delight so clear, but he needed to reassure himself. "I saw. Still planning to give me a turn?"

"To spare your stress, you may look for the next problem," Yori promised. Her fingers ruffled through his damp hair, before her face went distant with a familiar analytic look. "Pretty sure I can get that thrust calibration aligned without even taking it back for a full recompile...wouldn't want to make you wait too long."

Hard to deny the flare of anticipation at the thought, and Tron didn't bother. To fly with as much freedom as a lightcycle gave on the ground...no wonder Yori was so eager to complete the tests. "That looked amazing," he admitted.

Yori's grin went several shades brighter. "It _is_! And it'll be so much better when we get it right-you'll love it!"

Droplets of spray suddenly pattered down over them both. Tron shook his head, blinking. Yori's golden-haired older sister Ayci was standing on the Sailer's lowered lift platform, ankle-deep in the Sea, and had apparently grown impatient with their delay.

"Be right there, Ayci," Yori called without looking. She flung a dripping arm around Tron's shoulders, weighing him down, and snagged the prototype from his hand. A light kiss brushed damply on his cheek. "Come on, Tron. Let me tell you all about our new lightjet."

Tron boosted Yori onto the waiting platform and accepted her hand to climb up himself. He grinned at Ayci, slightly abashed, but leaned in to claim a better kiss from Yori anyway. "You do pick exciting dates."


End file.
